In Da Club
by TheMadKatter13
Summary: [Kinktober 2017 series 03: Public / Sthenolagnia] No one really cared about one buzzed human's raging boner at a typical display of alpha strength and protection. ...Except apparently the alpha. CU; Top Derek/Bottom Stiles.


**I really should be working on other things why do I keep doing this to myself. Title taken from the 50 Cent song of the same name for no reason except my brain kept yelling the opening lyric ("You can find me in da club") when I was trying to think of a title. This was also supposed to include biting but I forgot. Sorry it's a day late.**

 **Cross-posted from AO3 same-day.**

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Day 03: **Public** | Biting | **Sthenolagnia** (Strength/Muscles)

The music was so loud in the club that, when one guy picked a creeper up by the neck and roared in his face, no one really looked twice. Except for the girl that the creeper had been creeping on, who looked close to tears as she thanked what Stiles could only guess was a werewolf, judging by the red shade his eyes had burned at when he'd bared his fangs. Oh, and Stiles. And Stiles' dick. Which had taken a huge amount of notice and now he was rocking a hard-on in the club. Not that anyone noticed that either. Not because it wasn't noticeable, but because no one really cared.

The clubs that were made by and for the supernatural were always incredibly open about sex, considering how non-taboo it was for pretty much who wasn't human, and considering how sacred it could be depending on the species, it was practically encouraged. Especially in San Francisco. Despite the curtained booths lining the edges of the club, Stiles was pretty sure he could spot three different couples or groups going at it in his immediate vision. So no, no one really cared about one buzzed human's raging boner at a typical display of alpha strength and protection.

...Except apparently the alpha. Who was now suddenly staring at Stiles and smirking. And jesus fucking christ on a fucking pogo stick on a trampoline, the guy was _stunning_ , even from this distance amongst the seizure-inducing strobe lights. Stiles, not one for shyness, stared right back, and the werewolf smirked. Stiles grinned right back and began to move through the crowd, and when the pulsating mass spit him out next into a little bubble of empty space near a small piece of wall between two booths, one open, one closed, he nearly fell into the smoking-hot werewolf, who was even more attractive up close.

"Fuck me," he breathed in surprise when he tried to push himself upright to apologize and found his hands pressed to muscles like solid rock. He stared and touched and touched and stared and then he remembered that he was touching another person, a supernatural creature in particular, and froze. He could have either greatly insulted the alpha he'd accidentally, and perhaps a little drunkenly, started fondling, or he could have amused him. He sneaked a peek under his eyelashes and the man was still smirking at him. Phwew, coast clear.

Suddenly, hands curved around the backs of his thighs, spreading them and lifting him, and he grabbed onto the werewolf to keep himself from falling to his death, arms in a deathlock around his neck and legs in another around his waist. Which put his hands right near illegally soft hair and he buried his fingers in it with a jealous little groan and another "Fuck me."

Was anything about this man not perfect?

"You keep saying that but you haven't said where," the werewolf said nonchalantly as he pulled Stiles tight to his chest and slid a hand to his ass, pushing forward on it and forcing Stiles to grind his hard cock into the stranger's ribs. "I can do it right here if you want..." he trailed off, the hand on Stiles' ass sliding a little up and then back down, this time inside his jeans and boxes, skin against skin. A clawed finger pressed against Stiles's hole and holy shit Stiles could now die happy- er, wait, not yet he still needed to get the dick in him first.

"Buddy, as long as you have a condom and lube and you keep using those sexy muscles me, you can do me like a Shakira song," Stiles declared with a grin. He just got a confused look in return and he rolled his eyes. "You know, 'Whenever, wherever, whenever we'll be together'," he quoted, resisting the urge to do the accent and shake his hips. The former because he didn't want to scare this hottie off with his nerdiness before they did the do, and the latter because he didn't wanna shoot off before they did the do.

"I'll take your word for it," the werewolf said with a small smile as he turned in placed and pushed Stiles' back against the wall he'd been leaning on when Stiles fell onto him. When he leaned in, pinning Stiles with his (sexy) weight, there was a fucking cucumber in his pocket rubbing against Stiles' much smaller pickle, though Stiles was less fixated on the size of his own dick and more fixated on the size of the dick about to be inside him. He couldn't help but groan at the feel of it and tighten his legs around the guy's waist to grind against it, and his efforts were met with a chuckle. "If you lean back a little, I can actually get to your jeans so we can actually fuck."

Holy shit that voice should not say words like that. It wasn't as deep a voice as he'd been expecting but it was _pretty_ in a way Stiles didn't know voices could be and apparently curse words were just Devil's Food on his tongue. It took a second for the actual words to process, but when they did, Stiles arched his spine backwards into the wall to fumble at the button and zip on his jeans, and then he was trying to push them down despite the fact that his legs around the guy's waist made it impossible for his clothes to get very far.

There music pumped a second heartbeat through Stiles' back from the wall, which was disgustingly sticky against his bare ass and he was just going to be adding to it shortly but fucking whatever because there were wet fingers, claws gone this time, prodding at him as another hand grabbed an ankle and practically bent him in half to get his calf on his sexily-bearded werewolf's broad shoulders. Like, Stiles had broad shoulders but his one-night stand had _broad_ shoulders. Hot damn.

"C'mon c'mon c'mon," Stiles panted impatiently, tugging at the strands of hair wrapped around his fingers. In response, he got a fanged grin and two fingers up his ass. Stiles grunted at the unexpectedly fast intrusion and the familiar stretch. "Rude," he muttered. The werewolf's eyes flashed red as his smirk widened, his fingers starting to pump and scissor. "Laugh it up while you can, alpha, 'cuz any minute now I'mma ride that dick like you wouldn't believe."

"How will you manage that like this?" the werewolf asked, amused, shrugging the shoulder under Stiles' ankle as he worked in a third finger.

"Oh, just you wait and see." It was a challenge, plain and simple, and technically it was dangerous, challenging an alpha to or about anything, even in a place as crowded as the club was, but this alpha just smiled and pulled his fingers free.

"I guess I will," he said.

Stiles' breath caught and held in his chest as the hand still wrapped around the back of his thigh tightened and the werewolf's other hand disappeared under Stiles' ass to pull his cock free; and one-handedly put on a condom if the vague crinkling sound was any indication; Stiles really should make sure- And then he forgot to inhale when he felt the blunt tip pressing against him and slowly forcing its length into his body. As he pushed in, the werewolf refused to break his gaze, caught and held Stiles' eyes with his own as he was slowly split in half.

When he finally felt the press of a pelvis against his ass, he let himself lose the staring contest in favour of closing his eyes and dropping his forehead to the guy's shoulder. "Holy shit," he panted. He'd never gotten down with a male werewolf before (how could he when the only male werewolves he knew were his best friend and packmates that were like his kids), so he didn't know if the guy's size was all him or a gift from his wolfie genetics. Whatever it was, it was a life-ruiner in the best way.

It took a bit for him to realize that the guy was just letting him sit there on his dick, and Stiles groaned as he leaned back, feeling the length shift in him as he sunk just a little deeper onto it. The werewolf was smiling. "What?"

"Thought you were gonna ride me?" he asked, voice amused.

Stiles managed to get one hand free from around the guy's neck and he used it to wave floppily at the air. "Too fucked out," he managed, still feeling a bit dazed.

He got a raised eyebrow for that explanation. "I haven't fucked you yet."

"Well, get on with it then," Stiles commanded imperiously with a gracious pat to the nice, solid shoulder his leg wasn't resting on.

That raised eyebrow continued to stare him down for a tad too long before it was broken by a twitch of beard-shrouded lips. The werewolf didn't say anything, but his eyes were laughing at Stiles as both hands moved under Stiles' shirt to his waist and lifted him up without any apparent effort before slamming him back down on that thick cock, forcing a grunt from his chest. The werewolf kept at it without any input from Stiles, easily lifting and pulling without so much as a harsh breath, and Stiles hung on for dear life as he was emptied and filled at a steady pace that matched the beat of the music pumping through the walls.

Slowly, Stiles hands found their way from that silky hair to the biceps flexing with every thrust and he moaned, arousal pulsing through him urgently. "Jesus fucking christ that's hot," he muttered, squeezing at the man's muscles absent-mindedly.

"Which part?" the guy asked, eyes still laughing even as his mouth retained a semi-firm line. Stiles wanted to kiss it.

"All of it," Stiles replied, before leaning in to do just that.

Apparently he didn't cross any lines by initiating some lip-contact because the guy kissed him back just as fervently as Stiles kissed him. When he ran the tip of his tongue carefully over the sharp point of a fang, he moaned again, fingers and dick both twitching, and there was a sharp pressure over the skin at his waist, right above the each of the ten points of pressure from the werewolf's fingertips. Claws. Oh god.

"Oh my god yes please fucking _yes_ ," he begged, and his bomb-ass lay responded with a firm kiss, increased pressure from his claws, but not enough to break skin, and an increased pace.

The surprising new speed made Stiles jump, and his ankle slid off the guy's shoulder, dropping it to the crook of his elbow and also changing the angle just enough to get a blast of fire from his prostate getting stimulated. _That_ surprise made him toss his head back, and he barely noticed the thunk of it connecting with the wall as his body lit up like a go-go girl in a cage. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to try to keep from coming, but one of the hands at his waist shifted, an arm wrapping around him instead as more weight pressed him more solidly into the wall. The werewolf's other hand disappeared and then reappeared wrapped around Stiles's cock, the damp skin working him over easily until he was coming so hard that the club's strobing lights blended together into one white wash of non-colour across his vision and his body vibrated so hard that for a second, he _was_ the music.

When sound and colour started coming back to him, he found himself still trapped between werewolf and wall, and the werewolf was smiling at him, eyes half lidded. "Did'you-" he managed to ask, most definitely actually fucked out now.

The guy laughed. "Yes," he said simply.

"Good," Stiles said as firmly as he could, dropping his head back against the wall as he tried to regain his breath. "Damn, I wish I had one of you back in Beacon Hills."

The alpha didn't respond for so long that Stiles didn't think he was going to by the time he said, "Why's that?"

"Hm? Oh, all the werewolves with dicks back home are already in my pack. Tried dating one of the girls and that didn't work out and dating the guys would be too weird. I pretty much raised them all through werewolf post-bite puberty and yeah no just weird," Stiles managed to get out in one breath, despite the fact that his lungs were still crying for air.

"Not anymore," the guy muttered, and Stiles managed to drop his head forward to look at him, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"Is that a threat?"

Potential-Threat looked surprised. "No? More along the lines of an invitation, I suppose," he didn't-explain. "I'm moving back to Beacon Hills this week," he finished, actually-explaining.

"Oh!" Stiles perked up, and then winced when he remembered he was still pressed between an alpha and the gross wall and there was a slowly softening dick slipping out of him. "Well in that case, welcome back to Beacon HIlls. I'm Stiles," he introduced as the guy slowly put him back down. His legs were almost asleep but a few jumps as he pulled his jeans back up got the blood flowing. The werewolf frowned down at the condom on his dick and the pulled it off, tied it off, and dropped it on the ground near the wall. It wasn't the only one there.

"Nice to meet you, Stiles," the werewolf said, and ducked forward to kiss Stiles again. "I'm Derek."

FIN

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 **Eggghhhhhh. I'm terrible at this.**

 **Reblog the thing (themadkatter13fanfiction tumblr, tagged/In-Da-Club).**


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